


Tumblr Prompts - Plance

by rainforestgeek



Series: Plance Drabbles [1]
Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Alternate Universe - Hogwarts, Alternate Universe - Magic, Amortentia, Domestic Fluff, F/M, Familiars, Galaxy Garrison, Gryffindor Keith (Voltron), Hufflepuff Hunk (Voltron), Magic-Users, Meklavar - Freeform, Minor Original Character(s), Pike - Freeform, Ravenclaw Pidge | Katie Holt, Slyterin Lance (Voltron), Trapped In Elevator, Witches, drinking buddies, pikelavar - Freeform
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-05-28
Updated: 2020-01-31
Packaged: 2020-03-20 14:42:43
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 9
Words: 6,165
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18994678
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/rainforestgeek/pseuds/rainforestgeek
Summary: Posting the Plance prompts I get from tumblr.Chapter 1: "fantasy AU Plance relaxing by campfire at night showing off each other’s magic for entertainment"Chapter 2: Plance stuck in the elevatorChapter 3: slice of life domestic Plance with twins!Chapter 4: Hogwarts AU with AmortentiaChapter 5: post-canon “I’ve had a rough day and honestly all I want right now is a drink and someone to cuddle with.”Chapter 6: Pikelavar is basically Legimli, tbh





	1. Magic AU

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Rueitae](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Rueitae/gifts).

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> request from rueitae:
> 
> "Married Plance flirting with each other on a date night. OR Lance assists Pidge on a canon verse project and he just enjoys listening to her talk OR fantasy AU Plance relaxing by campfire at night showing off each other’s magic for entertainment"
> 
> Obviously I went with the last one

“Blue fire? At least be creative.”

“Don’t wanna. ‘M tired.”

Katie bumped her booted foot against his. “Where’s the fun in traveling with an illusionist who never conjures any interesting illusions?”

Lance reclined on the ground, stretched out like a cat next to the campfire. His bag was tucked under his head and he looked more than ready to fall asleep. Grinning, Katie reached out to feel the convecting air above the fire, and released a gentle breath. A burst of hot wind fluttered through Lance’s clothes and hair, making him yelp.

“Awake now?”

“One day you’ll do that and actually burn my beautiful skin.”

“Nonsense. I have better control over my magic than that.” A tiny, scaly head bumped up behind her earlobe, and Katie stroked the pygmy dragon where she was curled around her neck. Familiars rarely ventured far from their witches, but Emerald was especially prone to resting somewhere on Katie’s person. “Some of us have mastered the art of precision.”

Lance sat up and eyed the elementalist. “I’ll show you _precise_.” He reached toward the stars and twirled his palm in the air above him. With an ostentatious flourish, something soft landed on Katie’s nose then fluttered to the ground. Looking up, she gasped at a cloud of leaves half-floating, half-falling above their campsite. They danced in the soft wind and flickered in the firelight, one by one landing softly on the ground. She held out her hand and caught one in her palm. On closer inspection she realized the delicate leaf wasn’t a leaf at all.

“They’re petals.” Katie caught a couple more and took a deep sniff. “Rose petals.”

He smirked at her. The firelight glinted in his eyes. “Is this enough precision for you?”

Indeed. They individual petals were slightly fuzzy, and the green deepened in hue around the edges. And they had the _exact_ same fresh but robust perfume as roses. A few petals the strayed into the flames caught fire and delicately crisped to black. Emerald took a snap at one as it drifted passed her nose. “They’re _green_.”

She could swear she saw a flush creep up his neck. “Yes.”

“Quite the attention to detail. I’m impressed.” She smiled and reached over to boop him on the nose. “And you’re too easy.”

The whole illusion vanished abruptly, causing Emerald, who’d been stretching out her neck to catch a petal in her mouth, to startle and tumble off Katie’s shoulder. The dragon flicked out her wings and beat them downward to hover a few inches from hitting the ground. Her breath sparked irritably.

Lance reached into his bag and offered Emerald a scrap of dried mutton in appeasement. She snapped it up then settled primly in the middle of the campfire.

“Fine then, your turn.”

Katie summoned a ball of ice from the water vapor in the air. She tossed it into the fire, where it went up in a mass off hissing steam. She stared at it and concentrated.

The heated mist condensed into a mass of shapes – a herd of small, glittery horses galloping upwards into the air. Among them a pegasus took flight and rose above the others.

She heard Lance whistle softly and murmur, “It’s _beautiful_.” The corner of her mouth quirked up but she dared not look at him lest she lose her focus. The vapor suddenly dispersed from their shapes, then whooshed back together into a dense little cloud. It floated to Lance, who watched it move, mesmerized. Once it was just above his head Katie let it loose and rain poured onto the illusionist in a miniature torrent. Lightning flickered inside the cloud once, twice before it ran out of water and nothing was left but a drenched, bemused Lance blinking water out of his eyes.

His expression made her burst out laughing. As such she didn’t see him stand, strip off his soaking wet shirts, and walk behind her. She suspected nothing (but should have) until she already had a trail of water streaming over her face.

The bastard had wrung his clothes out over her head! Katie leapt and tackled him to the ground.

“What happened to using magic to prank me? Some illusionist.”

“Oh, but this was so much more satisfying.” He winked at her, and flashed that sly little smile he normally reserved for barmaids and mermaids. She’d never been the object of it before. Her face and neck heated up and she became aware that his biceps were _very_ firm under her hands where she pinned him, his bare chest inched towards her body every time he took a breath, and his skin had a strange musky, intoxicating smell.

Katie leaned toward him without thinking. His eyes went wide and his breathing became shallower.

_Oh._

Katie smirked at him and brought their faces even closer. She pecked his cheek then vaulted to her feet. She picked up his shirts, extracted the water from the fabric, and tossed them at his face. “I wouldn’t want you to sleep in wet clothes.”


	2. THAT elevator scene except with Pidge

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> anonymous asked:
> 
> "For the prompt: ya know that elevator scene with Keith and Lance in the early seasons? Yeah that but with pidge and lance"

“Hold it!” A small hand shoved its way between the closing elevator doors and pushed them back open. Pidge walked in wearing a green swimsuit matching the color of her Lion. She had a towel slung over her arm.

“What are you doing?” Like he couldn’t figure that out just by looking at her.

“Hunk told me to try to stop thinking for a while. Thought I’d check out the pool, give it a try.”

“Hunk’s right. Brain gotta rest.” Pidge grunted and leaned back against the wall, while the doors swished shut and the elevator went up. She had on board shorts over a fitted one piece that showed the gentle curves of her body normally concealed by her baggy clothes. Lance looked away, reminding himself that 1) tight clothes didn’t give him a right to stare and 2) Pidge would probably smack him if he started treating her differently than he had before. “Though I didn’t peg you as a swimmer.”

“Why?”

“I don’t know. You, robots, plus water. Doesn’t really mix. Never seen you without a robot.”

“…Eh, I guess that’s a fair point. Though with the proper insulation – ”

“Shhhhh. No nerd talk now. Now’s the time to _relax._ ”

Pidge scowled at him. “Do you ever understand a word that comes out of my mouth?”

“Hey! Quit condescending me!”

“I was going to say the same to – ” Pidge got cut off by the elevator suddenly jolting to a halt. Something crashed above them and the lights blinked off.

“Shit.”

“Language.”

“Are you really going to be that guy right now?”

“I got a niece and nephew waiting for me back home, I’m not letting your sailor mouth corrupt me and then them! We gotta find a way out of here.”

“Lance, the hatch in the ceiling. We can climb up the elevator shaft. Where are you, give me a boost.” Pidge’s searching hands smacked Lance’s chest in the dark. He jumped. The sudden skin contact burned him like a brand. The hands found his shoulders and between pulling himself together and thanking God it was too dark for Pidge to see his flushed face, Lance managed to squat down and link his hands together.

“Okay,” he said, while Pidge put her foot in his hands. “One, two, three!”

He lifted her up. Pidge skillfully punched the emergency hatch open, stepped, onto his shoulder, and hefted herself through the hole. Every spot their skin made contact was left tingling. He put that down to the shock of having more contact with her in five minutes than the entirety of their friendship.

“Can you pull yourself up?” She called down. He couldn’t see her face with the bright light behind her.

“Yeah, yeah, move.” Lance jumped, and heaved himself onto his stomach into the blinding shaft. He mentally thanked his drill sergeant from the Galaxy Garrison for making him do, like, five thousand pull ups a day.

He sat up and looked around, catching Pidge staring at him. She averted her gaze quickly and scanned their surroundings. “Crap. I’d hoped there’d be a ladder.”

“With a super advanced alien race like the Alteans you’d think they’d’ve thought of that.” Lance stared thoughtfully at the walls. “I’ve got a dumb idea.”

It took so many tries to get climbing that Lance almost called it quits. One foot at a time against the smooth metal wall, nothing supporting him other than the tension of Pidge’s back pressed up against his own, they inched upwards for what felt like _hours._ It didn’t help that Pidge kept muttering something about “normal force” behind him. At one point they slipped about a foot downwards and Lance’s heart leapt in his throat and choked him.

Panting, he said, “That. Was too close.”

“No shit, Sherlock. I’m getting tired.” Sweat gathered where their elbows were linked and where their shoulder blades pushed together. It made him afraid they were going to slip and break apart and fall to their deaths for real this time. “Do you see a hatch anywhere?”

“There’s one! About five meters up.”

Pidge flopped her head back against his (which, by the way, _ouch_ ). “Ugh, thank god, this is getting so gross.”

“Hey! I’m not the only one sweating here, miss sweats-a-lot!”

“Sooooo creative. Your ever-sharp wit strikes again. Almost left a bruise this time.”

“So what? You called me gross!”

“Goddammit Lance, I’m not calling _you_ gross, I’m calling the _sweat_ gross! You can’t tell me you’re enjoying this.”

Of course he wasn’t. His legs and back felt like they were on fire and the skin-to-skin contact wasn’t helping.

Pidge took his silence as an answer. She gasped, “Oh my god, you are!”

“Shut up, Pidge, let’s just get out of here.”

“Why _Lance_ , I never knew – ”

“Okay, stop. You’ve got me in a lose-lose trap here. I say no, then you think I think you’re unattractive; I say yes, you think I want you. So for the sake of everything and our friendship can we just get through that stupid hatch?”

He felt her take a breath. “Yeah. Let’s go.”

They finally made it up, and Lance kicked the little door in.

“Okay, we’re gonna have to do this carefully,” he told Pidge. “You shove against the opposite wall as hard as you can and shoot us into the hatch, and _hold on tight._ ”

“Gotcha. But first, just for the record,” she said, elbowing him awkwardly, “I don’t give a shit if you think I’m attractive, so you can chill out. The whole idea to totally subjective anyway.”

“All right, all right, I get it, Pidge. I’m still keeping my mouth shut.”

“Whatever makes you comfortable, Lance.”


	3. Domestic Drama, featuring Plance's twin son and daughter

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Prompt:
> 
> "A family Au? Where Pidge and lance have twins a little girl(Estella Or Stella For Short) and a boy (León)."

The door slamming shut made Lance start. That was loud, Pidge must’ve had a frustrating day at work. He carefully placed the last two tamales in the strainer, covered the pot, and set the kitchen timer.

Lance felt his wife press her face between his shoulder blades and wrap strong, wiry arms around his waist. She mumbled into his shirt, “Honey I’m home.”

He turned in her grip and kissed the top of Pidge’s head. “I’m making tamales.”

“What kind?”

“Beef. Don’t tell Kaltenecker.”

“I’ve said it before and I’ll say it again: you’re hot in an apron.”

A sudden collision jerked them both backwards and nearly sent Lance’s ass onto the burning stove. “Mommy!”

He saw a little head of messy, deep russet hair over Pidge’s shoulder. Stella clung to her mother’s arm and jumped up and down for attention.

With a tired chuckle Pidge let go of Lance and heaved Stella in her arms. “Hey, Sparkles. How was school today?”

The little six-year-old let loose a dramatic groan. “Bo-ring. We played tag at recess but León wouldn’t play with me an’ Rosa an’ Xav.”

Pidge carried Stella to the couch and collapsed into the cushions. “Really? Not even science class was interesting?”

“ _Ugh_ , teacher just talked about clouds and made me say big words like cuma – column – UGH.” She buried her face in Pidge’s shoulder and screamed something that sounded like, “ _too hard!_ ” Pidge flinched and rubbed her back bemusedly.

Lance set aside tidying up the kitchen to sit next to his girls. “We hear you, _cariña._ Remember how to talk when you’re upset?”

Stella looked up and very seriously squared her shoulders. “Use my Queen Voice.” Her tone dropped as deep as her little voice box allowed. Pidge mouthed _thank you_ over her daughter’s shoulder.

“Yep. So, Queen Estella, why are you upset?”

She pouted a little but kept her voice low, and by extension, quieter and less piercing. “All the other kids remembered the stupid kinds of clouds but me. They’re just _clouds_ , who cares? That word is too long anyway.”

Pidge leaned back and swept Stella’s wild hair out of her face. “I’m so sorry, sweetheart. That must have felt sucky.”

“And then León didn’t wanna play with me.”

“Oh honey, I’m sure your brother just didn’t feel like playing tag. You don’t have to do everything together.”

“But we do have to! We are twins!” To Stella’s credit, she diligently kept her voice at a deeper octave, and it seemed to be keeping a cap on her temper.

Pidge sighed. She looked so tired, so Lance reached over and rubbed her neck. “León is a different person, but he’ll always be your brother. Okay? Now let’s get some food into you and maybe you’ll feel better.”

“Huh?”

“Because when your body digests healthy food, your gut makes serotonin, which makes your brain feel calmer.”

“I don’t get it.”

“Most adults don’t, _princesa._ ” Lance rubbed her back and went to get his kid some yogurt.

Stella’s mood improved immensely when León emerged from their room with a crayon picture of Stella and their friends running around a playground. Trying to get their son to eat his tamales was almost impossible between him chattering to his parents about the picture and about the book his teacher had given him, but at least his sister had calmed down. Lance had to cajole the drawing from the twins’ hands by pointing out the sauce would stain the paper. It went up on the fridge.

Pidge leaned over and whispered in his ear, “We need to get that picture framed.”

“Assuming we manage to pry it from Stella’s clutches again,” Lance murmured back. He pecked her on the cheek, which she returned with a hand on his neck and a lingering kiss on the lips.

“Ewww!!!” Two voices chorused from the other side of the table. Pidge stuck her tongue out at her children.


	4. Amortentia

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Prompt:
> 
> "Plance Amorentia scene from Harry Potter??"
> 
> obviously a Hogwarts AU

“Keith! What’s up, buddy, how was your summer?”

Keith glared half-heartedly at Lance from where he was trapped by the Slytherin’s arm slung around his neck. “I literally saw you on the train yesterday.”

Lance ignored him. “What do you think Professor Smythe has to torture us with this year?”

“Whatever it is it’ll definitely be torture.”

They took their seats and started unpacking the their cauldrons and supplies. Lance started flipping through  _Advanced Potion Making_ and whistled. “You’re not wrong.”

“GOOD MORNING, CLASS!” The door slammed open behind them and Professor Coran Smythe exuberantly strolled down the aisle between worktables and with an enormous briefcase. His voice, body language, and bright orange hair gave him a constant impression of living fire. Lance was certain that the hair must have clashed horribly with his Ravenclaw robes when he’d been a student like six thousand years ago.

Coran set the case down the case so gingerly half the class leaned away, expecting it to maybe explode. He took out three large glass containers of potions and undid the caps, flooding the room with a bizarre mix of scents. One looked like mud and snot had gotten down and dirty in a bubble bath. Another Lance could swear was definitely water. And the third looked like melted pearls and just exquisitely beautiful.

“Welcome to the NEWT level of Potions! I won’t sugarcoat it for you youngins, this course will be considerably more grueling than your previous years. I have had many a student cry during the midterm exams, but if you do, be sure to collect and bottle those tears! Could possibly be useful later on in the course.” Coran gave a gigantic wink. Lance jotted that down for future reference. “Gather round, I’ve got some interesting potions to show you all.”

Most of the class clustered around the silvery potion that had dancing tendrils of steam curling from the surface - never mind that it’d finished brewing days ago. Lance was no exception; he hovered over the heavenly scent. Emanating from the surface was the crisp smell that happens after a rainstorm, a smell you only get by taking a deep breath of worn leather, and…whoa, something citrusy that was  _so familiar_  but he just couldn’t place.

A sharp pain in his side snapped him out of his blissed-out reverie. Keith, who’d apparently pinched him, jerked his head toward Coran. The professor was looking at him expectantly.

Lance’s face heated. “I’m sorry, what was the question?”

A few people in the class giggled while Coran just smirked behind his mustache. “Not to worry, my boy, that potion’s lovely aroma will muddle the heads of even the sharpest minds.”

“How much of it have you smoked, sir?” a Gryffindor asked.

“Five points from Gryffindor for interrupting class, and five points  _to_  Gryffindor for the interruption being funny.” Keith rolled his eyes at Lance. Coran continued, unperturbed, “Now can anyone take a gander at what this intoxicating concoction is?”

Lance raised his hand. “Amortentia, sir. The most powerful love potion in existence.”

“Excellent. Amortentia vitally dangerous and I must insist you never, ever use it on another person. At least without their explicit permission.” Coran smiled deviously like he recalled a fond but reckless memory. “However, it is also the only potion that smells and tastes differently to each individual witch or wizard! The aroma is that of things you are most attracted to!”

 _Rain makes sense, then,_  Lance thought.  _So does the leather, that reminds me a lot of a Quaffle. But what’s that lemon-like bit?_

* * *

Pidge groaned when she got to the top of the stairs -  _finally_  - and reached for the doorknocker. 

“ _Why is a raven like a writing desk?”_

 _“_ Both words have got a bloody ‘r’ in them.”

The door swung open, but not without a snarky “Welcome back, Miss Holt” from the enchanted doorknocker. She dropped her book bag and collapsed with a sigh onto the nearest armchair.

First day of classes was always the worst, but never more so than with NEWT Arithmancy and Ancient Runes. And Quidditch season would be starting soon, so she had plenty of late nights on the pitch in her imminent future. Potions wasn’t bad, though. The only thing surprising about Potions this afternoon was how  _powerful_  the smell of Amortentia had on her. She knew it would be scents she specifically found attractive, but it had not prepared her for the overwhelming barrage of chlorophyll, ink, and something sweet and earthy Pidge had instantly recognized as Lance’s cologne invading her senses. 

Pidge finally sucked it up and pulled out her Transfiguration homework. This was going to be a lot of reading.

Around the time Pidge had scrawled out two feet of notes, somebody poked her. “Your owl’s tapping on the window.”

Pidge stood, stretched out her back, and open the window where Rover the grey, fluffy Boreal owl was perched. He dropped a folded piece of parchment into her hands and settled on her shoulder. It was a note written in Hunk’s freakishly elegant script.

_We’re outside your common room. Please let us in._

_-Hunk and Lance_

The second Pidge opened the door she got attacked by Hunk sweeping her up in a bear hug. Rover shot into the air and squawked indignantly. “It’s so good to see you, Pidge!”

She wrapped her arms around his neck and gave a squeeze. “Missed you, too, Hunk.” He set her down and they both came inside. Firewhiskey crackled in Pidge’s chest when she saw Lance. 

_So that shows that another full summer away from my ridiculous friend has not dampened my feelings for him. Ugh._

He grinned at her and held his arms out. “What’s up, nerd?”

She smirked and gave him a hug. “More than you, loser.” When the hug lasted a little longer than she’d anticipated, she stood on her tiptoes so she could whisper in his ear, “Ravenclaw’s going to crush Slytherin on the Quidditch pitch this year.” Pidge felt Lance turn his face toward her and heard him take a deep, stuttering breath.

He suddenly pulled away from her, face flushed, and ran a hand through his hair. “In you - in your dreams, Pidge.”

_Weird._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you wanna know why I didn't have Pidge and Lance in the same Potions class, it's because in the books the Gryffindors ALWAYS had Potions with the Slytherins. And I am absolutely steadfast in how I sorted these characters, so I threw in some platonic Klance for you all.


	5. Rough day and a drink

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Prompt: “I’ve had a rough day and honestly all I want right now is a drink and someone to cuddle with.” (courtesy of Pinterest)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Technically I didn't get this requested on tumblr I chose it off of some prompts on pinterest, but whatever, I'm putting this little oneshot here.

“Hello?”

“Can I stay at your place tonight?”

“Hey Lance, nice to hear from you.”

“Look, Pidge, I’ve had a rough day and I really need a drink and an evening with my best friend.”

“Yeah, sure. Movie?”

“I’d rather not.”

“Okay, see you soon.”

Ten minutes after the phone call Pidge buzzed Lance into her building. He turned up at her door still in his Galaxy Garrison officer’s uniform, hair a complete mess, and his messenger bag over his shoulder.

“Did you come here straight from work?” She asked.

Lance collapsed in a heap on the couch. “I stopped for a burger on the way.”

Pidge went into her room. The bottom drawer of her dresser was all Lance’s stuff, mostly spare clothes. She picked sweats and a T-shirt at random and tossed them at his face on her way to the kitchen. “Get changed then come and pick your poison.”

He shot her a lazy salute then hauled himself to the bathroom. Pidge considered her booze cabinet. Last time Shiro was here he’d expressed  _a lot_ of concern about how much alcohol she kept at her place. Once a space dad, forever a space dad, and it’s only gotten worse since he and Curtis adopted a baby a few months ago.

Really, she just liked having a variety to pick from. She’s had some of these bottles for three or four years.

Pidge poured herself a scotch. Lance emerged and sat himself on the stool across the counter from her. He seemed marginally less cranky.

“What can I get you?” She playfully tossed a kitchen towel over her shoulder like a bartender.

“Got any Coke left?”

“Yep.”

“Then a rum and coke, please.”

“Coming right up.” Lance just rested his head in his hand while he watched her mix the drink. Pidge half expected him to drink it all in one go when she slid the glass over. But he closed his eyes and took one sip, as if savoring the taste.

“Thanks Pidge.”

“Any time.” She picked up her own drink. “So what brings you down to the local watering hole tonight?”

“At least half my students failed their flight midterms.” He took a deeper swig of his drink. “The other faculty are riding my ass to improve their scores.”

Pidge frowned. “That sounds like it’s on the kids.”

He rubbed his forehead, eyebrows all scrunched together. “But I’m their instructor, right? Their work reflects mine. I’m worried I’m not cut out for teaching them.”

“These are recruits, right?”

“Yeah.”

“Half of them are getting weeded out of the program after this year anyway.”

He grunted.

She chewed her lip. Pidge wasn’t one for empty platitudes. It felt too much like lying and not substantial enough to be of any help. That said, she’d learned the hard way Lance was sensitive and didn’t always respond to super direct advice.

Actually that did give her an idea. “You haven’t been teaching long, Lance. Some of it’s going to be trial and error. So if you think they’re not learning, try a different method.” She took his free hand and rubbed his fingers where they curled around hers. “Don’t beat yourself up about it. You’ll figure it out. Also…I know you. I know you’ll be there for your students no matter what. There’s no way you’re not ‘cut out’ for this.”

Lance gave her such a soft smile her bones suddenly became like 30% jelly. He leaned forward a bit and kissed her cheek. “Thank you, Pidge. I’m lucky you’re in my life.”

Pidge’s face heated. She awkwardly extracted her hand and downed the rest of her scotch. Then poured herself another. “Any time. Next time I have a robot explode I’ll come crying about it to you and crash at your place again.”

Lance held out his glass towards hers expectantly. She clinked them together and they both drank. “It’s practically a tradition now. I have like half of your pajamas at home.”

They moved to the couch and continued talking for a while. Catching up with him felt nice. Actually, nice wasn’t strong enough a word. His presence felt warm and comforting. A metaphorical fuzzy blanket. Both their schedules were so busy that Pidge hadn’t properly seen him in over a week. That was…too long.

When Pidge started yawning Lance tugged her up and led her to her bed. He collapsed on the other side. She liked to sprawl out at night and had spared no expense in getting a huge bed to do so. With so much room to spare, it seemed cruel to relegate Lance to the couch so this was their usual arrangement.

With a good foot of space between them.

Tonight, if Pidge felt Lance’s arm slide over her waist and his nose nuzzle into her hair, she didn’t say anything.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm not sure how good it is, I wrote it during a long-ass car ride on my phone. So let me know if you spotted any typos.  
> Thanks for reading! Love y'all <3


	6. Pikelavar = Legimli

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Not a prompt, just wanted to write it.

A puff of gray smoke replaced Meklavar’s useless, cowardly traveling companion at her side. She growled under her breath about scarlet cats leaving her to face two ugly, hulking orcs in the forest by herself.

Meklavar rolled left and a heavy sword landed right where she’d been a split second before, slicing the ground. She swiped her axe through the orc’s thigh. He fell onto his knee with a roar that sent disgusting shudders down her spine. Blood spurted from the wound.

She didn’t have time to assess the damage because of the massive fist coming at her. Meklavar ducked just in time, but the second orc caught the edge of her helmet and sent it flying off her head. “Quiznaking slug-fucker,” she cursed.

She blocked orc #2’s attack, but suddenly the world tipped from under her feet and she landed on her butt. Meklavar twisted in the grip of orc #1, who lay bleeding on the ground, on her ankle. In one clean swipe she chooses off the hand at the wrist.

She heard quick slicing sound. An almighty crash like a boulder falling from the sky jolted behind her. Then there was another schwick, and an arrow sprouted from the neck of orc # 1. When she turned, she saw orc #2 also on the ground, with an arrow shaft sticking out from between his ribs in a chink in his armor.

Meklavar looked up. Pike crouched in the canopy abover her, crossbow at the ready and a smirk on his face. He gracefully leapt down and hauled her to her feet. “I believe that’s two for Pike, zero for Mek.”

A twitch caught Meklavar’s eye. Orc #2 stiffly stretched dying fingers toward his sword. Meklavar pivotes around Pike and threw her axe straight into his forehead. The blade embedded itself satisfyingly deep. “Count again, kitty cat.”

Pike’s tail flicked. “He was already dead!”

“He was twitching!”

“You can’t finish him off a hair’s width from the brink of death, that’s cheating.”

“Oh ho ho, so it’s fine when you shoot the one who was already bleeding out from a leg wound in the neck but this doesn’t count? It’s one-to-one, Pike.”

Stowing his crossbow, Pike stuck his tongue out at her. Coming from literally anyone not a cat it would have had the desired effect, but instead the crescent of pink poking out between his lips just made him look adorable. “I’ll win next time, Meklavar. You’ll see.”

She reached up to scritch one downy ear. “In your little kitty dreams.”

He tried and failed to suppress a purr.


	7. "Holy Crow, Pidge, I could kiss you!"

He probably wasn’t supposed to take it seriously. It was friendly banter, right? It’s a common phrase and Pidge has a sharp wit, so surely, she wasn’t serious.

Right?

_No infiltration job works without a hacker. Once Pidge got inside a ship’s computer and all its cameras and defense systems, she was almost unbeatable. The trick was getting her to the computer in the first place. Maybe it was overkill for all four of them to guard her back while she worked, but the more immediate backup the less she could worry about getting attacked and just focus._

_“Aaaand…we’re in!”_

_“Holy crow, Pidge, I could kiss you!”_

_“What’s stopping you?” Pidge smirked without looking at him and continued hacking the galra computer._

It was bugging him so much that he went to Pidge’s room and knocked. She opened the door, wearing pajamas, and a little trash floof napped in her hair. Honestly he’d had no idea what he was going to say until the moment he saw her, and then the words just slipped out of Lance’s mouth.

“Fear.”

“What about it?”

“Being oblivious.”

“Huh?”

“I never asked you.”

“Never asked me what? Lance, what the quiznack are you blabbering about?”

“Those are the things stopping me. During the mission today I said I could kiss you, and you asked what was stopping me. Well, those are my answers.”

Pidge blinked owlishly at him. She didn’t say anything, just stared at him with a tired but otherwise unreadable expression on her face. Panic welled up inside Lance. This was a stupid idea, obviously she’d been joking, _way to go, Lance, you just made a perfectly good friendship super awkward._

“God this is embarrassing, I’m sorry for waking you, I just thought that – like earlier, you – let’s just pretend this whole thing was a dream and go back to bed, see you in the morning!” Lance turned on his heel and sped-walked away, almost smacking into the opposite wall.

“Lance.”

He turned back to her. She must’ve followed him into the hallway because she was like _right_ there. “Yeah?”

Pidge reached up, standing on her tip toes, pulled his neck down, and planted a quick kiss on his lips. She let him straighten up but kept her hands on his shoulders for a few seconds. She was blushing.

“Why?” he croaked.

“Because nothing was stopping me. Good night, Lance.”


	8. Post canon pre-relationship: Pidge is tired of missing her friend

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Post canon pre-relationship: Pidge is tired of missing her friend

“Come on, Lance, are you the same guy who dragged Hunk out of the dorms in the middle of the night? The one who sprinted inside a giant mechanical lion without question?”

“I’m not seventeen anymore, Pidge. I can’t believe you of all people are complaining that I’m responsible now.”

“What do you mean, me of all people?”

“I just - I meant - not…” he clenched his eyes shut and sighed. “I don’t do that kind of dumb shit anymore.”

“I get that you’re heartbroken, but that doesn’t mean you should while away your life planetside when you obviously were meant for adventure.”

“You don’t understand, Pidge.”

“Then explain it to me. I have it on good authority that I’m a quick study.”

She had her arms crossed stubbornly across her chest.

“Have you ever been in love?” He asked.

“Yes.” Her eyes just about popped out of her sockets like she had expected her answer just about as much as he had.

Lance shook it off. “Imagine losing that person, Pidge. Imagine giving them your everything only to have them become a martyr. Try to imagine how losing that will change you.”

“I don’t want to. I’m trying not to find out. That’s why I’m here, you dumbass.”

“I don’t follow.”

“I’m here for  _you_ , Lance. I want you to come back. I miss you.”

“Pidge, I…”

She held up her hand. “Oh my god, I’m not asking for romance or anything, so don’t even finish that sentence. I love you and I miss you and it’s stupid to deny those facts, but that’s my problem, not yours.”

Lance didn’t know what to say to that. He had so many questions, like how did she just take heartbreak in stride? Had he broken her heart when he and Allura got together? When did Pidge start liking him? How long has he not seen one of his best friend’s love right under his nose? What the hell did she see in him?

Oh. That’s exactly what she was trying to tell him.

“You belong in the stars, Lance. I don’t care if you’re a damn grown-up now, there’s no way you’re not still a bouncing goofball somewhere in there.” She put her hands on the table and learned toward him. “Don’t you miss the adventure? The rush of space? Meeting new aliens and eating questionable food?”

Lance chuckled. “Maybe not the last one.”

Her eyes glittered. “So you admit it? You’re not happy down here.”

“I’m…content. I’m with my family again. You know what that’s like, what it means.”

“You’re family wants you to be  _happy._ If I know anything about families it’s that, and I promise with the war ended we can visit Earth whenever you want.” He didn’t miss the ‘we’ in there.

Lance leaned back in his chair. “The Lions left us, Pidge. What would I even do out there?”

Pidge grinned. “Keith’s actually recommended you for an ambassadorial role in the new interplanetary coalition.”

“HE WHAT?”

She cracked up laughing. Her face went pink and she gripped the table’s edge so tight that her knuckles turned white. “Oh my god, you should see your face!”

Lance glared at her. “That’s so not funny Pidge! You can’t get a guy’s hopes up like that then do a bait and switch!”

His tone immediately sobered her. Pidge coughed once and gently poked his cheek, trying to get him to look at her again. “Lance, I swear, I was serious about the ambassador thing. Your expression was just so funny I couldn’t help myself.”

He deigned to meet her eyes again.

“I think he misses you annoying him all the time,” she said softly.

“Oh yeah? Just him?”

“I already bared my feelings to you once today, don’t push it.”

He thought for a minute, balancing his chair on the back legs that would surely get him yelled at if his mom came into the dining room any time soon. “I gotta admit…it’s tempting.”


	9. Sorcerers part 2

“What can I getcha, darlin’?”

“My companion and I,” Lance started, leaning dramatically over the bar, “would love anything fried that has meat in it.”

“Well I can surely russtle tha’ up for ya, honey.” Lance handed red-cheeked woman a couple of silver coins.

“Those better be real,” Katie muttered, after the barmaid had bustled to the kitchen to holler out some orders.

“Of course they’re real. You think I’d pay the lovely lady with illusion coins?” Lance murmured to her.

Katie started counting on her fingers. “Two weeks ago in that goblin village, last month at the pub in Frarlem Heights, the arctic mermaids - ”

He shut her up by grabbing her hands and planting a kiss on the back of each one. Katie’s tongue tied up. “You’ll notice, though, that I’m not disguising our faces. I’d never get us caught.”

She managed to croak out, “We’ve been caught.”

“But never recognized.” Lance released her and stretched his back, balancing precariously on his bar stool. “I swear on my mama’s life that’s legitimate currency.”

“Here ya go, darlin’s.” Two plates positively  _heaped_ with breaded food slid onto the counter, tickling Katie’s nose with the heavenly scent of hot oil. The barmaid - who, now that Katie got a look at her, looked slightly older than them - gave them each a mug of ale. She winked and twirled a lock of hair around her finger when she slid Katie’s drink toward her. “I gotcha some o’ the  _special_ draft, gorgeous.”

Heat rushed to her cheeks. Lance choked on the chicken leg he’d already begun demolishing. “You know I’m a woman, right?” she asked. She tried to strike a balance between coy and blunt. Lance just looked at her all bug-eyed.

“Don’t change how pretty ye’are. Enjoy.” She flounced toward a new patron at the opposite end of the bar. Lance took a deep gulp of his ale and Katie smirked.

“Jealous, Lance?”

He laughed nervously. “Of what?”

Katie sipped her drink. The taste was perfectly rich. “I make a hotter fella than you,” she sing-songed.

Surprisingly, his shoulders relaxed. “Thus forever protecting your maidenhood from any and all saucy suitors that pass your way.”

Just for that, Katie flicked her hand at his chicken leg, which promptly froze to his mouth and fingers.

 

 


End file.
